Читать книгу The Chosen Child - Brenda Mott - Страница 8

THE GLASS DOORS of the hospital emergency room slid open with a mechanical hiss, throwing Nikki Somers into a world tipped off its axis. Bright light and the sterile odors of medicine and cleaning solutions enveloped her, pitching her stomach into a nervous roll.

Faces, voices, blurred around her as she bypassed the busy front desk receptionist to find someone with answers. “Excuse me!” Hands shaking, Nikki waved down a woman in a nurse’s uniform. “You contacted me. My sister—Amanda Kelly—was brought in by Flight For Life. She was in an accident. I need to find her—now. Please.” The words poured out, nearly choking her. She felt as if she’d been dropped into some strange netherworld, and her real life was back there, somewhere outside the hospital doors.

Eyes filled with sympathy, the nurse met Nikki’s gaze. “Your sister is in surgery.”

Nikki’s heart nearly leapt from her chest. “Surgery! My God, how bad is she? What about the baby?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the details, ma’am. The doctor will talk to you after Ms. Kelly is taken to recovery. There’s a waiting room upstairs, third floor. Take the elevator—” she pointed “—and follow the yellow line.”

“Isn’t there anything you can tell me?” Nikki persisted. “Anything I can do?”

The nurse shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’ll need to wait for Doctor Smith.”

“Thank you.” Nikki could barely bring herself to utter the words. She didn’t want to wait. She rushed to the elevator and pressed the Up arrow.

Please, God, no. Not my sister…and not the baby.

The elevator bell dinged and the doors slid open. Nikki stepped inside. In what felt like slow motion, the car ascended to the third floor, where a lemon-colored line painted on the polished linoleum pointed the way to the waiting room. Nikki followed it, feeling as though she were on an alternate yellow brick road—one that led to nightmares.

The waiting room seemed small and close. She avoided eye contact with the four people who sat around the perimeter of the room. She had no interest in speaking to them, trading horror stories about why a group of strangers had been brought together in this room. Yet she couldn’t help but steal a glance in their direction.

In the far corner, a middle-aged woman sat with her coat unbuttoned, her dark hair pulled into a flawless bun. Beside her, a young man stared unseeingly at the television centered on one wall. The woman’s pantsuit looked designer, her nails professionally manicured, her makeup perfect. Nikki saw that she’d been crying and looked away as she sat, perched on the edge of one of the mustard chairs.

But she couldn’t block the whispers of the man and woman who commiserated with the elegantly dressed lady. She caught the words drunk driver and hit-and-run. And the fact that someone named Caitlin now hovered at death’s door. The dark-haired woman’s next words brought Nikki’s head up with a snap.

“The other woman was pregnant.”

And the man. “Dear Lord.”

My God. They were here because of the same accident Amanda had been in. She didn’t want to share this common bond with them, though she prayed their loved one—Caitlin—would live. Instead, she willed this all to go away and not be real, and for Amanda and the baby to be safe…alive.

The woman had said was pregnant. Surely she’d meant is. Nikki felt faint, but before she could address the woman, the door to the waiting area opened.

“Mrs. Somers?” Nikki turned toward the doctor as he entered the room.

“Yes.” Quickly, she rose to her feet and hurried to him.

“I’m Doctor Smith.” He held out his hand, and Nikki shook it reflexively. “Your sister is in recovery. You can see her in a little while, once she’s been taken to her room.” He pressed his lips together, looking grim. “I’m afraid the news isn’t good. Ms. Kelly suffered a placental abruption as a result of the impact from the accident. I understand her Blazer rolled into the ravine.”

Nikki’s throat constricted. “And the baby?”

“She lost the baby. I’m so very sorry.” He gently squeezed her shoulder, then went on to describe the extent of Amanda’s injuries—a concussion, cracked ribs…she’d required blood transfusions. She had yet to learn that the baby had died.

Nikki could only stare at the man, one hand over her mouth. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be real. She bit her lip, trying to hold back the tears, wishing Cody were here instead of on duty some seventy miles away. When the hospital had phoned to say Amanda had been in an accident, she hadn’t even taken time to call the Deer Creek police station. The Colorado State Highway Patrol had responded to the accident, which meant Cody didn’t know. She needed to call him.

“Are you all right, Mrs. Somers?” Doctor Smith’s words barely penetrated the fog shrouding her mind.

She managed a nod. “I just want to see my sister.”

“Well, like I said, it’ll be a little while yet.” He gestured toward the phone on the wall. “That’s an in-house line. A nurse will call you with your sister’s room number once she’s been transferred from recovery. I’ll be dropping in later to talk to her as well.” He looked as if he didn’t know what else to say, as if he’d like to move on to his next duty, his next patient. The smartly dressed woman had risen to her feet as soon as Doctor Smith entered the room, and she now moved forward, questions of her own at the ready. He started to turn toward her.

“Doctor.” Nikki laid her hand on his arm. “Was the baby a girl?” The ultrasound had indicated it was.

His eyes softened with genuine sympathy. “Yes. Again, I’m so very sorry for your sister’s loss.”

Nikki mumbled a thank-you, but for what, she wasn’t sure. She amended the thought, thanking God that Amanda was alive.

An eternity later, the wall phone rang and Nikki hurried to pick it up. She listened as the nurse gave directions to Amanda’s room. Once more, she followed the yellow line to where her sister lay on sterile white sheets, her blond hair spread across the pillow, eyes closed. Fighting back tears, Nikki moved up beside the bed. Amanda’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Amanda.” Nikki reached for her hand.

“Nikki?” The fear in Amanda’s voice devastated her, and it was all she could do to stand. She couldn’t speak to answer the question in Amanda’s eyes. All she could do was shake her head.

Amanda’s wail tore her apart, and Nikki’s emotions whirled in confusion. Relief at knowing Amanda would live mixed with sorrow at seeing her sister in pain. At the same time, the sickening loss in knowing the baby had not made it continued to grip her.

Not Amanda’s baby, as the doctor had assumed. Amanda had been a surrogate mother.

Nikki squeezed her eyes shut and wished she could melt into nothing.

Wished with all her heart that she could slip into a dark, quiet place where there was no pain.

Where her little girl was not dead.